


Non Sequitur

by Mad_Maudlin



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Humor, Marriage, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-23
Updated: 2010-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-06 14:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Maudlin/pseuds/Mad_Maudlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An afternoon at James's new flat doesn't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non Sequitur

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This ficlet was written in response to a wonderful drawble by [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/wellington/profile)[**wellington**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/wellington/): [What d'you mean, late?](http://www.livejournal.com/users/drawingdaily/13899.html) Sorry I couldn't get the punch in the nose in here, Sophikins.
> 
> _Non sequitur_ means in Latin "it does not follow."

"So your mum's paying for this, yes?" Lily said as she eyed the peeling wallpaper and the cases of ale stacked next to the fridge.

"Er," James replied, "only for a bit. Until I get my feet under me, so to speak."

"I see."

"Said it's preferable to having me knock about the house at all hours or share a flat with Sirius."

Lily inspected the broken-down futon for a moment before deciding it was clean enough to sit on. "What's so bad about you flatting with Sirius? Besides the obvious, I mean."

James frowned at the implied slant but said nothing; Sirius and Lily had always snarked back and forth, he couldn't expect them to quit it now that Lily was officially His Girl. Though he may have to seek some sort of disarmament treaty if Lily said yes. Well, if he asked her, and she said yes. What was he thinking, of course he was going to ask her, that's why he'd asked her over...he just didn't want her to think it was a joke or something. He had to wait for an appropriate moment, preferably a post-coital one.

He sat next to her and stretched out his legs on top of his trunk, which was filling in as a coffee table. "Well, for one thing, she claims our combined filth would trigger the evolution some sort of savage new breed of dust bunny which would devour us both before unleashing a reign on terror on London..."

"I said _aside_ from the obvious," she said, with a small smile.

"...and Remus already moved in, as soon as we left school."

"Why's that a problem?"

James looked at her.

"Oh. Yes." She coughed. "I suppose that would put a bit of cramp in their style."

_"Their_ _style?_ Lils, the fear of walking in on them at any given moment would end up putting a cramp in _my brain."_

She giggled, and kicked an empty Chinese food carton away into the corner. "What about Peter, then?"

"Eh? What about him?" James asked, shifting closer to Lily on the grimy futon.

"Why didn't you two move in together? Two and two?"

He did not understand why she wanted to talk about Wormtail when they were alone together in his very own flat for the first time. "His mum wouldn't let him. Says I'm a bad influence."

"Oh, dear." Lily caught his eye and stretched luxuriously, her breasts straining against her t-shirt in a most delightful manner. "Well, we wouldn't want to upset Peter's mum, would we?"

"Can we please," James asked, "not talk about Peter's mum?"

"Hmm...I suppose I can restrain myself."

James kissed her, diving into Lily's mouth and Lily's arms and Lily's body with abandon. No more stolen moments in empty classrooms and forgotten passages, no more hiding from snoopy parents, not for them; he was his own man, independent, with his own flat and the most beautiful girl in the world to share it with. If she said yes. If_when_ he asked her. But he'd worry about that later, because right now he had Lily, and she was warm and moving and here and oh, _Merlin,_ that felt good...

"Have you found a job, then?" Lily asked abruptly.

James pulled back and blinked at her. "What?"

"You said your mum was paying your way until you got on your feet," she said. "Does that mean you've got a job all lined up?"

"Not yet," James said, feeling the flush or arousal give way to a different sort of blush. "I mean, I've only just started looking."

"We've been out of school for four months already."

"I've...er...been busy," he mumbled, frantically trying to think of something he could've been busy _with._

"Oh. Well, in that case, before I forget, I wanted to tell you that Wilhelmina Rootlethe Hufflepuff prefect, you remember herher half-great-aunt breeds fancy puffskeins"

"You want me to breed puffskeins?" James said, not at all shrilly.

Lily winced. "Well, it's something to do while you're looking for something else, and I understand the pay is very good..."

He shook his head. "Okay. I'll, um, I'll look into it."

"Okay."

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then Lily leaned in and kissed him again, rather chastely. James slipped one hand into her gorgeous hair, and another around he waist, drawing her partway into his lap. She squirmed delightfully, and he'd almost forgotten her first question when, apropos of nothing, she said, "Did your mum work?"

"What?" James jumped and nearly pitched Lily to the floor. "My mum what?"

"Did she work?" she asked again. "While your dad was alive, I mean."

James blinked. "Lily, why are we talking about my mum right now?"

She shrugged and tugged at a bra strap that had slipped down her shoulder. "I've always been a bit curious."

James blinked at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Well," he said slowly, "I think she was a secretary or something before they got married, but...there wasn't really a need, was there? Dad was loaded."

"Oh." She seemed to relax a bit. "So I don't suppose you're one of those people who's always on about witches in the workplace?"

"It depends," he said, "on the witch and the workplace."

"Ah."

They sat next to one another on the couch, and James tried unsuccessfully to get Lily to meet his eyes. After a moment he squeezed her hand, and was about to ask what had got into her when she launched herself into his arms and nearly pushed him flat on the futon. He chose to forget her sudden inquisitive streak and instead slipped his hands under her top, working his fingers under her bra to cup and squeeze her lovely breasts while she kissed and sucked at his mouth, his jaw, his neck. She tugged open his shirt with a little growl, popping off a button, and shoved it down his arms until he had to take it off to keep touching her. He nuzzled her hair, licked the outside curve of her ear, worked his hands under the waistband of her jeans and under her oh-so-prim cotton panties...

"Just how closely is your family related to the Blacks?"

_"What?"_

James sat bolt upright, much as it pained him to suddenly change the subject. Lily sat up quickly and smoothed her clothes out. "It's just," she said quickly, "well, I've heard how interrelated all the old pureblood families are, and having seen his mother and brother I've started to suspect that at least part of his problems might be genetic..."

"Lily," James said, "for one thing, I don't think the Potters have counted as proper purebloods since the turn of the century, and for another, we're hardly related to the Blacks to begin with, and for a third, what the hell?"

Lily said nothing, and the more James stared at her the more she squirmed. "It's just," she finally said, haltingly, "I've been thinking."

"Well, obviously."

"About...things."

James frowned; he'd never seen Lily this uncomfortable before. "About what?"

She tugged on the hole in the knee of her jeans, then suddenly looked up at James with an unfamiliar discomfort in her eyes. "I'm late."

James asked, "For what?"

Lily's mouth hung open, and James recognized _that_ expression; it was a facial shorthand for, "oh my dear god, Potter, how on earth do you manage to get dressed every morning without killing yourself?" He racked his brains furiously, trying to figure out what she meant. What could she be late for? She was on time meeting him at his flat, that couldn't be it...surely she didn't have anywhere else to be, he'd told her he wanted her all day...wait, maybe she wasn't late for anything, maybe it was a metaphor. That was it, a metaphor...a metaphor for what, though? If she didn't meant it literally, what could she possibly...be...saying...

_"WHAT D'YOU MEAN, LATE?"_ James asked with saintly aplomb.

Lily cringed. "I'm sorry."

"I...no...you...what?" James sat down on the futonwhen had he stood up?and grabbed Lily's shoulders. "You're...you mean you're...you..."

"I saw a Muggle doctor about it yesterday."

James considered the matter and gibbered.

Lily squeezed his hands firmly enough to grind bones. "I know we didn't plan this, and I know it's mostly my fault for missing my potion though really you're just as much to blame because you _said_ you'd use the charm, but, James, please, don't get hysterical, we can work this out together"

He got up and left. He went to his bedroom, shut the door and pressed his head against the cool wood. _Think,_ he told himself, _pull yourself together._ But Lily's babbling had been replaced by a chorus of dancing house elves in sparkle tea-towels somersaulting through his brain and singing, _She's preg-nant, she's preg-nant, she's preg-nant, she's preg-nant._ They were only nineteen, fresh out of school, he didn't even have a bloody _job_ and oh, Hell, his mum was going to kill him

He turned around and looked in the mirror. "Get a grip, old boy," his reflection said bracingly, and pointed to the rickety chest of drawers he'd liberated from his mother's attic. James obediently crossed the tiny bedroom and went through his underwear drawer until he turned up a tiny velvet box with _Entwhistle &amp; Sons Jewelers_ stamped in gold leaf on the top. The face in the mirror looked more like a frightened teenager than somebody's father, but he'd had every intention of asking tonight...and, what the hell, post-mortem was as good a time as post-coital, he supposed...

His fist tightened on the box. He was a Potter, he was a Gryffindor, he was a _wizard,_ for fuck's sake, and he had the most beautiful girl in the world perched on his sofa.

Lily was crying when he slipped out of the bedroom, soft sobs that shook her shoulders silently. James planted himself in front of her, arms folded, velvet box hidden in his fist. "Is there any place you've always wanted to go?" he asked.

She looked up and wiped her face clean with her hands. "What?"

"Is there any place in particular you've always really wanted to visit on holiday?"

"James, what?"

"Answer the question."

Lily took a few deep breaths, then quietly said, "New York."

"All right." James prepared to kneel, then looked at himself. "Where is my shirt?"

Lily handed it to him, and he quickly pulled it on. Best maintain a sense of decorum here. James kicked his trunk out of the way and knelt in front of Lily, taking her hand in his. "I was going to save this for later, but...well...here."

He put the box in her hand. She blinked at it, and burst into fresh tears.

James pulled her down to the floor and held her, stroking her hair and back while she cried herself out. When she'd gone a full minute without any fresh sobs, he said, "If that's how you react to the box, I'm terrified of what you'll do when you open it."

Lily thumped on the back without much force. "I hate you."

James pushed her back just enough that he could look her in the eye. "Is that a yes or a no?"

She kissed him, which he supposed would be answer enough.


End file.
